A Nightmare
by PearlQ19
Summary: She is fighting the nightmare with all the powers at her disposal. But she does not succeed as the dream is pulling her deeper and deeper into her subconscious until she believes that what she sees is real...


A Nightmare 

_Author's Note:__ I can't exactly say what made me write this. Probably all this horror that's currently going on in this world. Or maybe I was just curious whether I could draft such a scenario. Anyway, this is the result. As usual, please send reviews, and tell me about any mistakes._

_This story may be called an AU fiction, because it is based on the situation created in my other story, "Harry Potter and the Return of the Lost" (go and read it if you haven't done so yet…), at least as far as the presence of Sirius Black is concerned. But "RotL" does not necessarily have to be read before in order to understand this._

_Disclaimer:__ The characters in this story belong to J.K. Rowling. I just borrowed them for a situation I hope JKR will never describe. I do not take any profit whatsoever out of this story._

_Summary:__ "She is fighting the nightmare with all the powers at her disposal. But she does not succeed as the dream is pulling her deeper and deeper into her subconscious until she believes that what she sees is real…" Set at an indefinite point in time, but several years after Hogwarts._

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_She is tossing and turning in her bed, and every now and then a silent moan or a muffled cry escapes her half-opened lips. Tiny beads of perspiration form on her forehead while she is fighting the nightmare with all the powers at her disposal. But she does not succeed as the dream is pulling her deeper and deeper into her subconscious until she believes that what she sees is real._

It is the end of the world. At least of her world, the Wizarding World. The Hogwarts castle has been set on fire; the old, majestic building is burning like a candle. They have to stand back, unable to extinguish the raging flames that consume those walls that once were their shelter. The lake is almost dry; only a small pond is all that is left of it, and on the sand that was once the bottom of the lake lies the cadaver of the Giant Squid. Its tentacles are already turning to stone, faster than any non-magical creature would. And the Forbidden Forest is gleaming with a sickly-blue, unnatural light.

She knows why. Dementors crowd the paths and meadows, the clearings and bushes that once were populated by a vast variety of magical beasts. Only a few have survived. The Centaurs lie slain on the ground; the Unicorns and Thestrals have fled.

And so many of her friends have died. Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan had been among the first to fall. Neville Longbottom had never left Harry's side, but for once his hero had not saved him. The Unforgiven Curse from Bellatrix Lestrange's wand had not missed its target.

Colin Creevey – dead. Padma and Parvati Patil – dead. Cho Chang – dead. Fleur Delacour – dead.

Flitwick, McGonagall, Snape and Moody.

George. Angelina. Lavender. Alicia.

Ron.

At some point in time, there had been no more tears left inside her to cry.

She is not crying now, when she knows that the end is near. The Death Eaters are everywhere. Not even Dumbledore could have broken the spell that surrounds them, denying them any possible way out. But Dumbledore, as so many others, is no more.

She casts a sideways glance at Harry. He is standing close beside Sirius, who is still staring in disbelief at the little pile of ashes that once was Remus Lupin. She can practically see Sirius' mind not accepting what happened. His face bears the same expression as Harry's when Ron fell.

Harry's hand lies on his godfather's arm in a futile attempt to give consolation. They both know that no consolation can ever be strong enough to heal the wounds that are still being torn tonight.

She feels a hand on her other arm and turns around. It is Fred, who is only a shadow of his former self. She cannot help thinking that he looks incomplete without George. Perhaps he is.

If anyone is going to survive this night, they will also be incomplete. But she doubts that Lord Voldemort and his legion will have any mercy.

The Heir of Slytherin is approaching. She can feel it. The wind stops blowing, and even the Dementors seem to hold their breath. The Death Eaters bow their heads to the tall, skinny man wearing a black hooded cloak. He carries a sword in his right hand. The blade reflect the green glow of the huge Dark Mark in the sky above them.

She feels Harry move beside her. he clasps his own fingers around the Sword of Gryffindor he is carrying. But one look into his green eyes tells her that the battle is lost. Every spark of life has left those eyes. The only persons left for him worth fighting for are Sirius, Fred and herself.

She keeps looking into his eyes, and she sees a faint echo of his love for her. It is still there, but love alone is not enough to win a war.

And Harry knows it.

The duel itself goes so fast that she can barely watch the opponents. She remains where she is, standing between Sirius and Fred, clutching their hand, not wanting to see the only one she ever loved die.

But the moment comes faster than she thought. The blade of Lord Voldemort's sword changes into a cobra, and before Harry can react, the snake hisses and bites his right hand. Screaming in agony, Harry drops the sword. His face goes deadly pale and he utters a stifled moan as the venomous poison is rapidly spreading through his body. He tumbles, and Lord Voldemort just stand there and watches him. He laughs, and his evil laughter resounds from the forest and the scorched ruins of Hogwarts as the Death Eaters laugh with him.

Sirius roars like a wounded beast and rushes forward, but a Stunning Spell from Lord Voldemort's wand keeps him at bay.

She cannot move. She wants to, but she stands frozen to the ground.

Lord Voldemort goes back to the Death Eaters. He does not object when Sirius lifts Harry's limp body and carries him over to Fred and her. He has no need to object. She thinks that he probably savors their pain, their fear, their terror. And he can afford to stand and watch, for their last fortress of resistance has just caved in. Lord Voldemort has won the war.

Harry is barely alive, and she knows he is going to die in the few minutes. She wants to speak to him, tell him everything that is still unsaid, but she cannot utter a word.

Fred stands thunderstruck, his face so pale that even his freckles disappear. Sirius is the only one who talks. He whispers to Harry in a hoarse voice, interrupted by dry, desperate sobs. He is kneeling on the ground, cradling his dying godson is his arms.

It is this that finally breaks her paralysis. Sirius' tears suddenly confront her with the truth. She can move again, and she drops on her knees on Harry's other side. And Harry, with all the strength he can muster, turns to her and raises his trembling hand to touch her cheek. And then he says his last word, in a quiet, husky voice that is full of painful tenderness. He says just one word before his eyes break forever and get glassy and lifeless, and this one word is more than she can bear, and it breaks the spell, and she can feel herself waking up. And while she is waking up, the whisper of his dying voice is haunting her.

"Ginevra…"

_Ginny opens her eyes and stares into the darkness of the bedroom. Her pillow is wet with tears, and her throat is sore and narrow. But her racing heart calms down as she realizes that it was just a dream. A horrible nightmare, but still no more than a dream._

_She sighs with relief as she realizes that this was no prophetic dream. They were still students in the dream. But their time at Hogwarts lies a number of years in the past._

_Only a nasty nightmare._

_A sound beside her makes her turn around. He is lying on his back, his messy dark hair covering the whole pillow, and he is snoring quietly. She looks at him and hopes that he has pleasant dreams._

_Ginevra Potter, née Weasley, whom everyone calls Ginny, takes a deep breath and turns around. Cuddling against her husband, she lays one arm over his chest and smiles as his hand automatically searches hers. She feels the gentle touch of his skin as she links her fingers with his._

_He is here with her, and he will be for a long, long time._

_It has been many years since they defeated he Dark Lord, and they made sure he would never return. And as long as an occasional nightmare is all that is left of his evil presence, Ginny is not going to bother._

**THE END**

_End Note: I just had to write this. In case you're wondering why I didn't mention Hermione – I didn't want to reveal the girl's identity until the end of the dream. And after all, it's just a dream. Not everything has to be logical._

_Thank you for reading this, and now please send your review._


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